


The Masked Boy

by TariSirfalas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Slow Updates, Some Foreign Language Phrases, Unfinished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariSirfalas/pseuds/TariSirfalas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louise goes to a masquerade with her father, the German Ambassador to Italy. There, she meets a mysterious young man. But what happens when the mask comes off?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Masquerade

Louise sighed as she nervously flattened the non-existent wrinkles on her gown. It was a pretty dress, she supposed. She never had much of an eye for fashion. Her dad had bought this dress specifically for tonight. She twisted her torso back and forth a few times, trying to find an angle she liked. It was a shimmery shade of blue, the exact same color as her eyes. Simply cut, it hugged her waist before coming over her sizable breasts. Thank goodness it wasn’t a strapless dress. She didn’t want to be constantly adjusting the top of her dress the whole night. She flicked the spaghetti straps, testing their strength. The finishing touch was a silky white scarf that she now slipped over her pale shoulders.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, turning away from the floor-length mirror.

Ambassador Beilschmidt ducked his head slightly as he crossed the threshold as if he were embarrassed to enter the room. A toothy grin etched itself on his face as he caught sight of Louise. _“Sei bella,”_ he gushed, clapping his hands together.

“Dad!” Louise whined. She wasn’t sure what he had just said, but she knew it was embarrassing. Her dad loved to fawn over her, just about as much as he loved the Italians, which was a lot. Ever since he spent a semester abroad when he was in college, according to the stories he tells his peers at parties.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“I said that you’re beautiful,” he explained, switching to German He walked across the thick carpet and took her hand. A twinkle in his eyes, he kissed it. “You should brush up on your Italian now that we’re here.”

She nodded dutifully. It had been a year since she had taken a class in Italian back in Germany. She could only recall some basic words and phrases. Her dad was right. Now that he had been appointed to be the German ambassador to Italy, she’ll need more than just the basics to get by.

“Who did your hair?” her dad asked. Her blond locks had been pinned up in a neat bun high on the back of her head. “You didn’t do it yourself, did you?’

Louise smirked. Even her dad knew that she couldn’t do her hair to save her life. “No, Sofia did it.” She was speaking about their live-in maid. A small, elderly Italian lady, she did not speak any German, but seemed to understand completely when she came in to find Louise trying desperately to tame her hair.

“This is for you,” her dad said, holding up his other hand. It was a beautiful mask, the same color as her dress. The sequins around the edges glittered in the artificial light of the room. He waved it a little in his hand, causing the blue feather glued to the side to dance. 

“Thanks,” she responded, taking the mask from him lightly, as if it could bite her. Her dad seemed to notice her reluctance and took her chin between his fingers gently. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “It will be fun. You should lighten up sometimes. It would be good for you. You might even find a boy, eh?” He gave her chin a little shake.

Despite herself, Louise couldn’t stop a small smile from crossing her lips. “I doubt it,” she countered, turning away from his grip on her chin. “But I’ll try to have fun.”

“Good,” her dad said, nodding. “You know, there’s going to be more than just old government-type people at the masquerade. Some awesome young people are coming.” He jerked the collar of his tuxedo and puffed out his chest.” But they’re not as awesome as me, right?”

“Sure dad,” Louise laughed. “Whatever you say.”

“Here, I’ll help you put it on,” he offered, taking the mask again. “It’s designed to hug your face around the sides so it won’t slip off.” He flipped it around and fit it on her face. Louise adjusted it with her hands. The inside was covered with some kind of soft material, probably felt. At least she would be able to keep it on the whole night without it itching too much.

 _"Ah, perfetta,”_ her dad sighed. “You’ll have all the boys fawning over you.” Louise blushed underneath her mask.

With a small tap on the door, another man in a suit came in the doorway. _“Ambasciatore Beilschmidt,” he announced. “E 'ora di andare.”_

Her dad nodded curtly at the man, who disappeared down the hall. He turned back to Louise and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

\-------------------------------

The masquerade was being held at the Prime Minister’s country villa near Rome. Louise had to stop herself from hanging her mouth open as the mansion came into view. An enormous white tent had been set up in the spacious garden, which teemed with a rainbow of beautiful plants and flowers. The limo traveled down the hill and the garden became blocked by the tall hedges that lined the Prime Minister’s estate. Once the limo stopped and the chauffer helped her out, Louise was able to fully appreciate how tall the hedges really were. They towered several feet above her head, casting long shadows from the lamps. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to see her dad, who smiled widely. He wore a black mask similar to her own. Louise allowed him to take her arm and led her through the opening in the hedges.

The garden was alive with mysterious people in elegant clothing, chatting in groups, dancing in pairs. Louise stared as she and her dad walked the garden path, passing many of these masked party-goers, who laughed, talked, and even sang. The air was filled with classical music provided by the small group of musicians on a stand near the tent. Even they wore masks.

“Pretty awesome, right?” her dad murmured in her ear. He seemed to be buzzing with excitement. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

Even Louise appreciated the authentic quality of the festivities. White tablecloth on dainty tables, beautiful china and wineglasses. Women strutting in magnificent lacey gowns, mysterious men in dark cloaks. The spell was only broken when a girl walked by, her eyes glued to the cell phone in her manicured hands.

“Gilbert, is that you?” called a voice in English. A man with brown hair weaved his way through some party-goers and came to stand in front of them. “It is you, right?” he asked in a heavy Spanish accent, twisting his head to the side comically. His suit was more of a matador costume, with its bright colors and golden designs. A bright red cape was draped over his right shoulder and a mask of the same color adorned his face, making his gleaming green eyes seem to pop.

“Yes, it’s me Antonio,” Louise’s dad laughed, keeping the conversation in English. “It’s great to see you here.” He slapped the man on the shoulder.

“Same here, _mi amigo_ ,” the man agreed, returning the gesture. He turned his attention to Louise. “And who is this young lady?”

“Antonio, this is my daughter, Louise. Louise, this is Spanish Ambassador Carriendo.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, _señorita_ ,” Antonio greeted Louise, gently taking her fingers and bowing to her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ambassador,” she responded, giving a slight curtsy.

“How polite!” Carriendo commented. “Surely she didn’t learn that from you?”

“She’s taken after her grandfather, it seems,” her dad answered, winking at her fondly. “Very courteous and very serious.”

Louise squirmed under the men’s collective stares. She despised being talked to like she was an interesting sculpture to be examined. She needed to get away. “I will leave you two to catch up,” she told them. “I think I should try to mingle.”

“An excellent idea!” Carriendo agreed. He put his arm around her dad’s shoulders. “Come, Gilbert! I’ll introduce you to Francis. He’s the French ambassador, you know and…”

An hour passed. Louise found herself leaning against a stone wall near one of the refreshment tables, sipping from a small cup of punch. Just as her dad predicted, a few young men approached her for a dance, but every time she turned them down, explaining that she did not speak Italian. She occupied the rest of her time by watching the festivities. After the first few minutes of novelty, the masquerade had begun to resemble any other social gathering. The one’s she hated. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the need to have fun, but parties had always been a mystery to her. This one especially defied any logical explanation. Why wear masks? What was the point in calling back to an earlier time period? Why did Italians drink so much wine?

Suddenly, a shadow crossed her face. The young man that now stood in front of her had appeared almost silently, like a ghost. She maintained her even expression, however, and calmly observed his appearance. His navy blue cloak was of a magnificent quality, almost as if it was an authentic piece from the Renaissance. His elaborate mask added to his already mysterious aura. One side was the same color as his cloak, but the other a deep black. His auburn hair contrasted with the rest of the ensemble, giving it a fiery appearance. One small lock curled outward, a strange quirk on an otherwise suave form. He smiled and his light brown eyes twinkled beneath his mask. As he smiled, Louise felt a pleasant chill run up her spine. She furrowed her brow, disapproving of her body’s reaction.

 _“Ciao bella,”_ he greeted, holding out his hand. _“Vuoi ballare?”_

 _“Non parla italiano,”_ she responded, giving him the same line that she gave the other boys.

He retracted his hand a little, but then he smiled mischievously. “Do you speak English, then?” he asked.

Louise was taken aback for a moment. None of the others had tried this tactic. “Y-yes,” she reluctantly said. Curse her own honesty.

“Very good!” His smile grew wider. “Let’s try again…Hello beautiful. Would you like to dance?”

“Why would I dance with someone I do not know?” She glared at him.

“Come, I insist.” He extended his hand further. “You might get to know me while we dance.”

Louise sighed. This guy was persistent. He probably would not go away until she agreed. It was just one dance, she reasoned. She would likely never see him again anyway. She gingerly took his hand. “Fine,” she agreed. “But only one dance.”

“That’s plenty of time,” he said, pulling her towards him. Surprised by the sudden action, she grabbed at his shoulder to keep herself from falling. He placed his other hand on her waist, steadying her. “Careful,” he teased.

She pursed her lips. It was his fault, she thought to herself. But she didn’t have time to dwell on this fact for long, however, because he began leading her towards the dance floor. In some way, she was grateful for the mask on her face. It gave her a sense of animosity. Only her dad and Ambassador Carriendo knew who she really was. She silently prayed that her dad didn’t see her dancing with this mysterious man. She would never hear the end of his fawning.

They reached the dance floor and began a simple waltz. “You’re very good,” he commented after a few minutes.

“Thank you,” was all she could say. 

“Will you tell me your name?”

She hesitated for a moment. “Louise,” she told him at last, trying hard to seem disinterested.

“That’s a very pretty name,” he complimented. There was that alluring smile again, the one that made his eyes twinkle. “My name is Feliciano.”

“I guess that is a nice name too,” she said, looking away. She was determined to keep as little eye contact between them as possible. 

“You are German, right Louise?”

Another chill ran up her spine when he said her name. “Y-yes,” she stammered, unaccustomed to the feeling.

“May I ask how you came to Italy?”

“My father is the German ambassador,” she answered blankly. Maybe this will put him off, she hoped. 

“Beilschmidt, right?” He smiled widely. “I know him!”

“How?” Dread filled her stomach. Did she unknowingly start dancing with an important youth in the government?

“My grandfather is the Minister of Defense,” he explained. “I have seen the Ambassador a few times.”

“Oh,” she sighed, relieved.

“He is a very lively man for his age,” Feliciano commented. “He almost seems Italian himself.”

“Yeah, that’s my father,” Louise said, rolling her eyes with bemusement. 

“He spoke of you often, I remember. He must be a very doting father.”

“Very,” she confirmed. She glanced around for a moment. “Hopefully he won’t see us dancing.”

“He and my grandfather get along very well in that way. He is always showing his friends my paintings, even without my permission.”

“You are an artist?” The question was out of her mouth before she realized she had forgotten to seem uninterested.

“It is one of my hobbies,” he replied. “It is something to pass the time.” He seemed to have a faraway look in his eye for a moment before turning his attention back to Louise. “Do you have a hobby, Louise?”

“Well, I--” At that moment, there was applause as the small concert band finished the waltz. 

Feliciano removed his hand from her waist and stood back a step. “It was very nice to meet you, Louise,” he said. He bowed to her, putting a hand on his heart. “Our one dance is finished, so I will leave you now.” He began to turn away.

“Wait!” Louise snapped. She realized she had reached out her hand to stop him and quickly swung it back to her side as he turned back to face her. She felt her cheeks turn red against her will as she said, “I-I didn’t tell what my hobby is.”

“Another dance then?” 

She nodded silently. His twinkling eyes smiled at her as she took his offered hand.


	2. Two-Faced Italian

A Few Weeks Later:

Louise shuffled into the kitchen. It was much too early. She yawned widely as she got out a loaf of bread from a cabinet and placed two slices in the toaster. As she was reaching for the butter in the refrigerator, her dad burst into the kitchen, a grin etched on his face.

“This is awesome!” he said by way of greeting. “My adorable Louise coming to watch her old man at his dream job!” He poured himself a cup of coffee from the fresh pot on the counter. As if he needed it. 

Louise sighed. It was going to be a long day. At least it was something she could handle. Every year since she was ten, her dad has taken her to his job and paraded her around for his coworkers supposed enjoyment. This year was different, however, because not only did her dad land the job he had aspired towards for years but it was also the last year before she finished school. This little chick was leaving the nest soon. Louise didn’t want to think of how much doting her dad was going to squeeze into this last father-daughter work day.

“Going for the sexy conservative look today?” her dad teased, smirking, as she straightened up and shut the refrigerator door. 

“No,” she replied, embarrassed. “Just conservative.” She looked down at her attire. It consisted of a simple olive green blazer with a black dress shirt underneath, a pencil skirt of the same green, tights, and simple black heels. There was nothing particularly sexy about it, but anything she wore was ‘sexy’ to her dad nowadays.

“You should get Sophia to put your hair up,” her dad commented, eyeing her limpid shoulder-length hair. “It’ll complete the look.”

“Actually, she taught me how to do it myself awhile ago,” she responded. “I thought that I might as well learn since I won’t have her to do it for me pretty soon.”

For a split second, a look of pain crossed his face, but he composed himself and smiled. “I’m so proud! Maybe she could teach you about mascara too.”

“Not so fast, dad. One step at a time,” she laughed as the bread in the toaster popped up, perfectly toasted.

\-----------------------------

They pulled up in front of an official-looking building.

“So, what’s the first order of business?” Louise asked as they got out of the car.

“I have to meet with the Minister of Defense about something. You can observe, if you want. It’s not as if you’ll understand what we’re saying.” He laughed as he started up the large stone steps.

Louise felt a cold chill run up her back. The Minister of Defense? Suddenly, the memory of that night crossed her mind.

> _“So you have no siblings?” Feliciano asked. He set his wineglass delicately on the tablecloth._
> 
> _“Yes, it’s just my father and I,” she confirmed, taking another sip from hers._
> 
> _“That sounds peaceful. I have an older brother named Lovino. He can be very bossy sometimes.”_
> 
> _“Is he here?”_
> 
> _“He is somewhere around here,” he answered, shifting his eyes back and forth for a moment playfully._
> 
> _“Then let’s hope he does not come over here.” They laughed together._
> 
> _Louise swished around the wine in her glass. Was the alcohol the reason she was getting along so well with this Italian boy? She looked back up at his smiling face, still obscured by his mask. No, there was something about his personality that seemed so inviting. Something that had compelled her to keep dancing with him, to talk to him, and to sit with him at the table._
> 
> _Suddenly, over his shoulder, she spotted her dad making his way towards them. He was still talking to Ambassador Carriendo and looked a bit inebriated, but eventually he would see her. She shot up from her spindly chair, pulling on his hand._
> 
> _“My father! Run!” she exclaimed, somehow remembering to speak in English. She led him in the opposite direction of her dad, dodging other guests as they zigzagged across the garden. She spotted an opening in the hedges and dashed through it, dragging Feliciano with her. She vaguely registered that they were in a narrow pathway made out of tall hedges. Once they were out of sight, she halted._
> 
> _“That was very close,” she sighed with relief, huffing to catch her breath._
> 
> _Feliciano leaned against one side of the hedge walls. “Is being with you normally this exciting, Louise?” he teased, smiling._
> 
> _“No, I just—“ She stopped when she realized she was still holding onto his hand. He noticed as well and slowly brought it up to his face and kissed it. Another pleasant chill ran up her spine. His amber eyes seemed to glow with feeling and at that moment, everything began moving in slow-motion. She leaned her head in at the same time his moved down. Their lips touched and as she closed her eyes, a great warmth began growing in her chest. She forgot herself for a moment and enjoyed the feeling._
> 
> _Suddenly, the cold realization of what she was doing hit her and she jumped back, bringing a hand to her mouth in shock. She stared at him for a second, too stunned to speak, and then suddenly dashed back out the opening in the hedges. She didn’t know where her legs were taking her and she didn’t care, just as long as they were taking her away from her mistake._
> 
> _At that moment, she bumped into her dad and Ambassador Carriendo._
> 
> _“Louise! There you are!” her dad exclaimed, slurring his words slightly. “We’ve been looking for you. It’s time to go home. Antonio here thinks I’ve had too much to drink, but I say that—”_

After her momentary stupor, Louise continued walking up the steps with her father. A thousand thoughts filled her head. Would Feliciano tell his grandfather about her and who she was? Would the Minister tell her dad? Did her dad know already? No, there’s no way her dad would know. He would have said something already. But what if the Minister knows?

These thoughts consumed her all the way up the steps, through security, and down a long, echo-filled hallway. As they stopped outside a set of double doors, she managed to reassure herself that even if the Minister knew, they were there on official business. It shouldn’t even come up at all.

Just as her dad was about to knock on the door, it swung inward and a man in a pinstriped suit stepped out.

 _“—vino è il migliore!”_ he exclaimed heartily, his attention still on someone in the room. As he turned his head, he noticed the two people before him.

 _“Ah, Ambasciatore! Buon tempismo!”_ he laughed. _“È lei la vostra segretaria bella?”_ He winked at Louise. His eyes had the same glimmer as Feliciano’s.

“Actually, sir,” her dad answered, speaking in English. “This is my daughter, Louise. She is still learning Italian, so could you-?”

“Of course!” the Minister bellowed, chuckling. “Anything for a lovely young lady!” He took her hand and kissed it. Louise felt her cheeks turn pink. Now she knew where Feliciano got his charm. “Good morning, Miss Beilschmidt,” the Minister greeted. “What brings you here to my humble office?”

Louise opened her mouth to speak, but her dad answered for her. “She is here to watch her old man at work,” he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder fondly.

“Ah, what a coincidence!” the Minister exclaimed, his face splitting into a full grin. He beckoned them through the door, yelling into the room, _“Nipotino! Noi abbiamo ospiti!”_ Louise heard the sound of hurried footsteps as she and her dad were ushered into the small sitting room.

It took her a split second to recognize him without his mask, but there was no mistaking the curl in his hair. A cold chill ran up her spine. There stood Feliciano, holding a stack of manila folders. He saw him look at her dad and then to her as he came to the same realization. He started to take a step forward, a cheery smile on his face, but suddenly caught his foot on a bump in the ornate rug. Documents flew everywhere as he fell ungracefully to the ground, his head just a few inches from her heels.

 _“Ciao…”_ he groaned painfully.

 _“Mamma mia, Feliciano!”_ the Minister shouted, half amused, half exasperated. “I need those for my meeting with Ambassador Beilschmidt! What am I going to do with you, eh?”

 _“Mi dispiace, nonno!”_ Feliciano cried, his face red with embarrassment as he got up on his knees and hurriedly put papers together.

As Feliciano scrambled to put the stack of folders back in order, stammering apologies in Italian, Louise couldn’t help but stare at him. Was this the same boy? It was as if his personality had been completely replaced, His voice, while technically the same, gave off an air of naivety and innocence. Even his eyes were different. There was only one word to describe them. Limpid.

At last, the paperwork was back in order and Feliciano carefully handed it to his grandfather. “There we go!” the Minister laughed. “Ready, Ambassador?”

“Of course. Come on, Louise.”

“Now now, there’s no need for the young lady to watch, Ambassador. It will be very dull for her, especially since we’ll be speaking mostly in Italian.” 

“But-“

“And she can keep an eye on Feliciano for me!” the Minister interrupted. “Make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble.” He started making his way to an inner door, presumably his office, while Louise’s dad helplessly followed. “It won’t take long, I promise!”

With one last look back at Louise, her dad shut the door, leaving an awkward silence. Louise walked over to the back side of a sofa and placed her hand on it to steady herself. She had not been prepared for what should happen if she ever saw him again. She stood frozen, unable to think of anything to say.

“So…” Feliciano started, fumbling with his hands. “It’s nice to see your whole face. It’s very pretty.”

She ignored the compliment. “Listen, about that night,” she blurted suddenly, whipping around to face him. “while I enjoyed your company, I hadn’t planned for it to end the way it did, a-and the alcohol might have had a hand in it and-“

“I didn’t think we had that much to drink,” Feliciano interjected, a sort of sad smile on his face. “Well, maybe me, but definitely not you.” He continued playing with his hands. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy kissing me?

“I-it’s not that, it’s just…” Louise slowly ran her hand across the polished wood of the sofa’s back. “It was my first kiss,” she confessed, blushing.

“Really?” he queried, looking slightly ashamed. “Then I’m sorry for stealing it from you.”

She sighed. “No, it was not your fault.” Why was she comforting him? She should be yelling at him, but the sight of him fidgeting with his fingers and looking sorry for himself was just as compelling as how he had been at the masquerade.

“Can we at least be friends?” Feliciano asked. Big doe eyes looked at her.

“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly. “We don’t have to kiss again, do we?”

“Nope, unless you want to.”


End file.
